


Surprise!

by moriturism



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff and Humor, Humor, If You Squint - Freeform, M/M, Not Beta Read, POV Outsider, Secret Relationship, hints of Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:01:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24265540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moriturism/pseuds/moriturism
Summary: Atsumu tries to embarrass his brother. To no one's surprise, it backfires.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu & Miya Osamu, Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou
Comments: 5
Kudos: 356





	Surprise!

The volleyball stadium was the last place Atsumu wanted to be.

For as much as he devoted himself to playing volleyball, once he went pro there was something that unnerved Atsumu about watching other games. Maybe it was the same reason he never liked to watch his high school games—seeing his mistakes were never fun and his reckless play often left him feeling quietly ashamed. He also had to consider that as part of the "monster generation," any professional volleyball game he went to in Japan was bound to have a few familiar faces. He wasn't against meeting up with old friends, he was adamant about keeping in contact with all of his Inarizaki teammates even when Sakusa teased him for being glued to his ("horribly filthy") cellphone.

Whatever the reason was, seeing the games  _ live  _ made it far worse. When he wanted to watch a particular serve or play, his interruption would undoubtedly be interrupted by the roar of the crowd shaking through the stadium. The feel of sweat on the bottom of his thighs from the disgusting plastic bleaches served as a reminder of how much his dark-haired roommate had affected him, as Atsumu found himself wondering,  _ who else has sat in this seat? Were they clean?  _ Even something as simple as  _ watching the game _ became a concern when some ridiculous giraffe of a man sat in front of him.

Needless to say, Atsumu was less than thrilled to be sitting by himself, watching a division one game that he'd only agreed to go to because he owed his brother a favor.

_ 'I need someone to record the game,'  _ Osamu had pleaded.  _ 'I've got to work the cart but I don't want to miss a second.' _

Countless free meals after his own games had sealed Atsumu's lips from any argument, knowing deep down he at least owed his brother  _ that _ much. But he still couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to this. After all, Atsumu was his  _ brother _ and yet Osamu hadn't recorded a single one of his games (not to his knowledge at least. Though Atsumu was also fairly certain that if he  _ did _ record the games, 'Samu would never tell him seeing as Atsumu would tease him about it 'till the day he died).

Yet something about this match, EJP Raijin vs. the Red Falcons, was special.

He supposed some of it could have to do with the fact that not one, but  _ two _ Inarizaki grads were playing, but Atsumu knew his brother better than that. Sneakily (as if his brother would manifest from the Onigiri Miya cart if he noticed), Atsumu zoomed his camera in so it focused on one player in particular.

_ 'Samu's gonna love the footage,  _ Atsumu snickered, needing something to amuse himself.

His brother had never exactly been subtle about his crush on the middle blocker. Even if he'd never outright said anything to Atsumu (very little ever just  _ needed _ to be said between them. It was a twin thing), Osamu spent far too much of his high school days rambling on about Rintarou's gorgeous form and flexibility while ignoring his fangirls for Atsumu to have any doubts. Not to mention, the first time EJP and the Jackals had conflicting games, Osamu hadn't hesitated in going to the EJP game instead (Atsumu didn't  _ tell _ Osamu that this stung of betrayal, but Osamu also happened to give him an extra rice ball the next time he cooked for him). He'd even made sure Atsumu was sitting on the Raijin's side of the stadium! As far as Atsumu was concerned, his brother had it  _ bad. _ He was so hooked on Rintarou, he hadn't even dated anyone since he graduated high school.

So Atsumu, ever the troublemaker, knew he was doing his brother a favor by zooming in on his old highschool crush. Surely, that had to be what had Osamu so concerned, right? And, oh, Atsumu couldn't  _ wait _ to see the embarrassment on his face when his brother realized the footage was all focused on the man of his desires.

His delight at spoiling his brother was enough to distract Atsumu from the squealing girls behind him and the way that bleachers had begun to dig into his back through the end of the game, but Atsumu was still awfully relieved to get out of the stadium when the game had finished. EJP had won (he could hear Osamu already: "of course they won, they had Rin!" and Atsumu was already preparing his retort on how Aran had practically  _ trained _ Rintarou), and his side of the stadium went ecstatic. In the chaos, Atsumu found it easy to slip away so he could see his brother before the after-game food rush. 

He'd also noticed that a certain middle blocker had also found an excuse to skip the polite after-game waving. Atsumu knew Rintarou had never been exactly fond of crowds, but he was never one to skip on formalities. He quietly hoped he hadn't hurt himself before Atsumu had a chance to face him on the court.

Camera in hand, Atsumu eagerly made his way to the familiar Onigiri Miya stand. Surely, Osamu would've saved him a snack for his hard work recording, right?

But when Atsumu came across the stand he was greeted by non-other but the wimpy teens Osamu had hired to help out.

"Where's yer boss?" he demanded,  _ needing _ to see Osamu's reaction to the footage. The kid in front of him jumped (in retrospect, it was probably surprising to see a replica of your boss looking for your boss) before pointing him to the locker rooms.

"H-he said he had to take care of something!" was the boy's scared reply, a relieved sigh heaving from his chest when Atsumu walked away.  _ The locker rooms huh… _ Atsumu wasn't really sure what he'd be doing there. Usually, Osamu was diligent about his food cart, taking pride in how he greeted almost every customer. Maybe he'd needed to take an emergency piss?

As a pro-player himself, no one really paid any mind to Atsumu slipping away to the team-only areas. Still, Atsumu let himself feel just a  _ bit _ of thrill at the idea of sneaking around someplace he wasn't supposed to be. He was so distracted by the thrill of it all that he hadn't even heard the quick breaths coming from the locker room, far overshadowed by the incessant roar of the stadium.

No, Atsumu hadn't noticed anything wrong until he opened the door to the locker room and-

_ "Baby," _ Rintarou hissed, skin flushed red from something other than the postgame heat. From where Atsumu stood, he had the perfect view of his brother's broad back, and Rintarou's chin, his head pushed back against the wall to give Osamu easy access to his neck.

"Mmm…" Rintarou laced his hands through Osamu's hair, eliciting a moan from his partner, and pushed him off. "We have company."

Osamu groaned and rose from his position, not at all flustered at having been caught, to send a deathly glare to his brother. "Ya could ruin a wet dream, 'Tsumu," he spat, arms instinctively wrapping around Rintarou's waist. The shorter of the pair melted into his touch, resting his head on Osamu's chest with practiced affection. The both of them looked at Atsumu, breath messy and lips red but eyes undoubtedly unamused, as if to say  _ 'well?' _

"I brought the, uh," Atsumu gulped. "The footage you asked for." He held up the camera expectantly, not sure if he should run and hide or wait it out.

"Great," Osamu drawled. "I'll give it to Rin later, when we're not," he gestured between them, "busy."

Atsumu raised his eyebrows, swallowing his pride. "It's for Rintarou?"

"I like to reflect after matches," the middle blocker answered, delicate fingers finding their way to Osamu's scalp once again.

Atsumu shivered at the thought of reflecting, and then once again when he remembered  _ what _ exactly he had recorded. He needed to find a better recording, and fast.

"Well, I'm gonna," Atsumu pointed at the door as if the couple in front of him could not see it, "go."

Even though the crowd in the stadium hadn't let up, he could distinctly hear his brother's "good riddance" as he and Rintarou returned to their previous activities.

* * *

"'Samu, baby, what the  _ hell _ did you brother record?"

"Let me see…"

Osamu groaned from where he was splayed across Rintarou's lap. He mindlessly scrolled through different parts of the video to see if it got any better, to no avail. Defeated, he sat up and reached for his phone.

"What're you doing?" his partner hummed, fingers drawn to his hair. It always helped Osamu relax, after all.

"Asking Shouyou to send me videos of Sakusa during practice," Osamu replied, pushing back into Rintarou's touch. "For payback."

"Okay," Rintarou hummed, eyes back to the computer screen. "I'll just delete this then…"

"Don't do that!"


End file.
